Never Too Late
by Queen Jean-Grey
Summary: 13 years of searching for his twin has almost led Bill Kaulitz to ruins and he's almost lost hope in that happening.But Fate decides that they must be together to protect the world......Only one small problem.Tom doesn't remember his brother at all.
1. Ready, Set, Go!

Bill Kaulitz's eyes quickly ran across the room. At first blush, he saw pill bottles. Many pill bottles and a bunch of pills in a large glass bowl. He picked his way through the mess of pill bottles on the ground and gingerly walked toward the other door on the other door, looking for his new superior, a Dr. Gil Grissom. Getting sent to the United States by his old boss, his own father, was bad in his opinion. And getting sent to Las Vegas of all places was even worse. He hated the City of Sin simply because he hated gambling and drugs and everything that Vegas stood for.

"This is a closed crime scene. Clean up happens once we've cleared this scene." A burly man with graying hair shined his flashlight on Bill and Bill simply flashed his badge.

"I'm CSI Kaulitz from Berlin. I'm looking for a Dr. Gil Grissom. I was told to come here to find him." Bill smiled slightly as he offered up his badge for the man to look at.

"I'm Dr. Grissom. You're Jorg's son then?" The man handed the badge back to Bill and sighed. Bill nodded ever so slightly as he took his badge back.

"So what do we have?" Bill gripped his kit and waited patiently for Grissom to tell him what they were dealing with here.

"A 405. With a possible 425." Grissom started down the hallway on the furthest side of the room and Bill quickly followed at his heels. "Since you're new, I would prefer you to go back to the lab and wait until I assign you a case so I can evaluate your competence."

"I'm perfectly competent and one of the best CSI's in all of my native land of Germany. Ask my father." Bill glanced over the room that Grissom headed into. "I see why you wanted me to wait outside but I'm not squeamish. I can take this." Bits of skull and brain and blood were stuck to the wall, while Bill simply arched his pierced eyebrow. "I can take this. I've seen worse back home."

"Hey, Gris. I've collected and documented everything that seems odd or out of place, including the blood void on the back of the victim's hand." A spiky sandy-blond haired man stood up on the other side of the bed, his hazel eyes looking to Grissom, then landing on Bill. "Who's the chick?"

"This is the son of a very old friend of mine who runs one of the crime labs in Berlin. He's our new CSI. Bill, this is Greg Sanders, one of my CSIs. Greg, this is Bill Kaulitz." Grissom glanced at Greg, who gingerly worked his way over to where he and Bill were standing, at least a dozen bags under his arms plus his kit. "Greg, why don't you take Bill back to the lab? I'll stay here and bag the scripts."

"But, Gris...."

"I'll get a ride back with Brass." Grissom waved his hand and Greg fell silent.

"Okay, Gris. Come on, Billio." Greg took one last look around the room for anything he'd missed, then turned on heel and walked out of the room, while Bill stood there for a few seconds, then followed Greg out.

"Don't ever call me that again." Bill warned as they got out to the Tahoe. He was quite pissed that Grissom had dismissed him like that and Greg's peppy Californian attitude didn't help much.

"Yeoch. Cat's got claws."

"I'm not a cat nor am I a woman."

"But your features are very feminine."

"Just shut up." Bill growled, wishing that he was back home in the coziness of his office, sitting there looking over lab reports and ballistics reports and putting pieces of the puzzles that didn't seem to fit together. He'd loved having his own office and pretty much being his dad's right hand as it was. He'd managed to rise from a lab tech who worked in any lab that he was needed in to assistant supervisor very quickly and hadn't wanted to leave it, but he was forced to. It was either both he and his dad get fired or Bill left. Bill knew that he hadn't made assistant supervisor simply because he was the supervisor's son. He toiled long and hard for that position and some people didn't realize that.

"So why are you here?"

Bill pulled his eyes away from the Vegas scenery that was passing him by and looked at Greg with a weary eye. "Office politics back home. I was the assistant supervisor and some jackass who had seniority over me, but a very shitty track record with solving cases complained to the higher ups that the only reason why I got the position given to me was because I was the supervisor's son. They planted evidence that I was planting evidence and there were only two options. Either both me and my dad be fired or I leave. My dad made the decision for me to come here to save both our reputations and his job. None of the labs back home were willing to hire me simply because word got out about the accusations against me. Then, my dad remembered about his quote old friend Gil from college who was a crime lab supervisor here in America. So he apparently called Grissom and when he found out that you guys lost two of your own, made arrangements for me to get hired here."

"Damn, that sucks." Greg said as he pulled into the Las Vegas Metro Police Department parking lot. "Come on. I'll introduce you to the rest of the team if they're here."

"Okay." Bill hopped out of the Tahoe and sighed. It was going to be hell working here, he could just see it now.


	2. Blue Monday

Bill sighed very softly as he slouched in his seat. This was about the only thing that made his move to Vegas worth while and took his mind off of work and his non-existent social life. Psychology was by far the best thing to be introduced into society as far as he was concerned and a class on it was ten times better. He'd learned only a few nights after he'd gotten here that having another degree on hand aside from one in forensics was a very good thing, when he and Grissom got gunned down and nearly got shot. Only thing that kept them from actually getting shot was Grissom's quick yet calm thinking and Grissom's knowledge of psychology and his degree in it also.

Right after that, Bill registered at ULV majoring in criminal psych. Not only might it save his life, but it took up most of his free time, yet left him enough time to sleep and enough time to work with his Craft. His Craft was part of the reason why he'd had such a good case record back home. When a case would get tough and he his a dead end, he'd turned to his Craft and perform a ritual of sight and ask the gods to show him what he was missing so he could solve the case and bring justice. The only case he hadn't been able to solve was a cold case that had hit very close to home. The disappearance of his older twin brother was something that was almost killing him. Not even his Craft had been able to help him at all. The only thing it did give him was a temporary connection to his brother's mind and reassurance that his brother was alive and healthy.

More than once, back in Berlin, when Bill'd first discovered the Craft and the fact that he could see through his brother's eyes for a little while, he'd tried hard to convince the lead detective on the case that his brother was alive, but the detective ignored him. Then, when Bill got hired by the lab, he'd managed to win the supervisor at the time over and get a look at the case folder. Every week, he went back over the evidence once he became a field CSI and searched for clues to where his brother was. Now, that he was in Vegas, he could no longer look at the evidence, but he continued the rituals, praying that he could figure it out and find his brother.

"Bill, class is over." A very soft voice cut through Bill's apparent daze. Bill blinked and looked around to see that the small auditorium was indeed empty, except for his professor, who was putting papers into his briefcase. "Something bothering you that you've been sitting there for the past ten minutes?"

"Kinda." Bill ran his fingers through his long black hair as he watched his professor organize his briefcase. Professor David Marchand was the closest thing to a friend outside the department. Bill and Davey got along rather well since Davey was the only professor that cared about his students and he also directed Bill to the local occult shops after a long discussion that started about the advantages of a degree in psychology in the forensics field and somehow went off-track to the most random topics.

"Is it about your brother or a case of yours?" Davey leaned against his desk, his full attention on Bill, ready to listen to anything the twenty-six-year-old had to say.

"I did it again and that weird feeling came back and of course, another vase of mine shattered." Bill sighed very hard, then began to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. Davey nodded, following vaguely what Bill was talking about. One of Bill's slight telekinetic incidents had happened during one of Davey's lectures and Davey being Davey had pinpointed it to being Bill. He'd approached Bill about it and Bill hadn't even known that he'd been doing it.

"Did you get a little closer to finding him?" Davey ran his fingers through his hair and say down next to Bill, who shook his head and sighed. "You want to go see Jade again? Maybe he can help?"

"It didn't work last time." Bill raked his fingers through his hair and let out a long hard sigh.

"He is the only one that can help you that's willing to. I know people who would know about it, but I don't want to risk it and have my ass handed to me." Davey leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"Why not?"

"I can't talk about it. It's information that's classified."

"Does it have to do with the weird things going on?"

"Yes. I can tell you that much."

"Fine. Let's go see Jade." Bill quickly gathered his things up and literally shoved them into his brown leather backpack. He really hated it when people held things back from him and when it concerned things like his brother, it just pissed him off even more. He just wanted to get his brother back.


	3. Tears Of Pearls

Jade Puget's half-blond hair flowed gently with the wind as he stood out on the roof of his small little occult shop. He could sense something coming, something big that could bring down the city. He knew things, but by personal oath, he couldn't reveal it not even to the agency that he worked for, instead he wove them into riddles and prophecies and if you were smart, you could figure them out. Davey'd told him since the day they'd met and Davey had found out about Jade's horrible curse, that he'd been given the Sight for a reason and he should use it. He used to try to change the future, but it cost him the woman he loved. That was the reason why he refused to use his Sight and why he riddled anything that he did say about his visions.

He listened keenly to the wind, trying to see if there were any clues to what was going to go down. In addition to his Sight, he had extremely keen hearing. He somehow had hearing that rivaled even a dogs or a cats. This was just about as much of a curse as his Sight was, except he could control it unlike his Sight. He could zone in on specific sounds and distinguish what it was.

His head snapped to the left when he heard the hard screech of brakes. He knew the sound of those brakes. It was Davey. He rushed downstairs and had the door unlocked, before Davey even got to the sidewalk. When he saw Bill practically hugging the nearest signpost, he nearly burst out in laughter.

"Hey, Jade." Davey stepped in the shop and Jade lost it. It was just so funny seeing Bill clinging to the signpost, especially for someone who knew how Davey drove.

"I'm gonna go pry him off of that signpost." Jade tried hard to control himself as he headed toward the door, but the moment he stepped outside he lost it again. "Bill, it's okay. Let go of the signpost." Jade giggled in between his words earning him a good glare from Bill. "You look like a stripper."

"Have you ever ridden with Davey?" Bill shot Jade a nice long glare as he slowly pried his lanky limbs away from the signpost, brushing his black button-down shirt off as he readjusted it.

"Yeah. I'm the one who made the mistake of taking him for his drivers license. You get used to it after a while." Jade smirked, then nodded his head toward the door and Bill huffed before heading inside. "You're such a diva."

"Divas aren't criminologist, Jade." Bill put his hands on his hips before he opened the door.

The moment that Bill stepped into the shop, he could smell the light oder of Jade's incense. It encased the whole shop, giving it a head shop kind of feel , yet in keeping with the occult feel. The front was filled with various books on witchcraft and all things occult related along with a large variety of incense. Up against the wall was Jade's register and a glass case filled with various gems, crystals, and minerals. Further back were more books and another glass case, this one holding a variety of athems all shapes and sizes and hand-carved incense burners. Even further back were Jade's bags and bags of dried herbs and flowers along with a mixture of various other occult supplies.

"Anyway, what do you guys need today?" Jade went behind the counter and say down on his stool.

"I need a reading." Bill leaned forward over the counter and looked Jade in the eye.

"Give me your hand, Bill." Jade held his hand out and Bill laid his half-gloved hand on Jade's. This was one of the few things that he hated about having the Sight. He couldn't touch anyone without having a vision come and overtake him. His hazel-brown eyes slid closed and it grew very quiet. It was like that for a few minutes, then Jade turned pure white and he groaned. Bill's mind was suddenly barraged with images and he let out a groan in unison with Jade. A crime scene appeared in Bill's mind with about a million bullet holes and many dead. He saw a young man with dreadlocks standing there, his back turned and he was on his knees, bent over someone.

"Nein, Nein, Meckie, Bitte nein." Bill heard the figure crying and went to approach the figure.

"Stay, Bill." Jade laid his hand on Bill's shoulder and Bill let out a sigh. The scene changed to a sun and a moon charm combining and a bright light bather the room. Then, it went black.

"Jade, what was that?" Bill turned to find Jade was exactly where he'd been in the vision.

"What little I will show you of my vision." Jade turned on heel and released Bill's shoulder. "Who wants tea?"

"Jade, tell me what that was." Bill grabbed Jade's arm and dug his nails into Jade's arm, causing Jade to stop in mid-step.

"Figure it out for yourself." Jade shook his arm free of Bill's grip. "Keep your weather eye open for a storm a brewin'; In a city of social and moral ruin. A storm full of darkness and evil, of never ending tragedy. Every lighthouse has gone dark. Heed the Hell hounds bark. Artemis and Apollo have seemed to disappear, never realizing they are so near. The mighty warriors have passed down the River Styx, a feat only twins can fix. Worlds will clash, those who can help need not be rash. Damage shall be created beyond repair. Take my advice and follow the White Hare. When the moon crosses over the Great Blue, the sun shall be found and tame the mighty Hell hound. Pull the sword from the stone and the rift shall be repaired, yet the twins must be dared. In the land where the rivers ran Red, this will end. The rule of death shall bend. It shall end in the dead of night. Both sides doing what they think is right." Bill cocked his head in confusion as Jade calmly walked over to the door and locked it. "Get it, Bill?"

"Not really."

"Here." Davey handed Bill a paper on which he'd written what Jade recited and Bill stared at it blankly.

"Still confused."

"You'll figure it out in time." Jade patted Bill on the back. "I just hope it's not to late." He hugged Bill, then left the confused you man standing there. "Now, who wants teas?"


	4. Chemical Warfare

Bill had rewritten the prophecy over a million times over the past couple days, since Jade'd made it. There were a few notations that he made about what he could figure out like the Artemis and Apollo lines referring to him and his brother; the twin necklaces that they'd worn as children had been a sun and a moon. The city of social and moral ruin was more the likely Las Vegas and where the rivers ran red was definitely referring to Egypt. He'd thrown himself into it, head first, consulting every single book he could , but had quickly hit a dead end. He'd called his cousin, Erik Gunther, to pick the brain of Erik's life-long best friend, who was the king of solving riddles, only to find out that Erik lost contact with him. He was on option number two, picking his best friend's Andreas Melhouse, brain. Andreas had grown up knowing the twins and he'd been Bill's rock when the elder twin had been kidnapped and he was eager to help Bill find his brother so Bill could be whole again. Bill'd literally fallen apart over the kidnapping and Andreas was the only thing that had kept Bill together.

"Bill, give it to me one stanza at a time." The ultra-blond could see on his screen that Bill was getting very anxious about this whole thing. Bill had never been this antsy, expect when it came to talking about the elder twin's disappearance.

"Keep you weather eye open for a storm a brewin', " Bill couldn't help but pass a tennis ball between his hands. He brushed his black bangs out of his face and wished that Jade hadn't been so secretive and coded about the vision. "In a city of social and moral ruin. A storm full of darkness and evil, of never ending tragedy."

"A storm of war in Vegas, maybe. Massacres. Weird human rituals." Andreas shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "Next."

"every lighthouse has gone dark. Heed the Hell hounds bark. Artemis and Apollo..." Bill trailed off as he felt his pager vibrate against his hip. He let out an exasperated sigh and looked up at the ceiling. "Any, I gotta go. There's a call and I gotta go take it."

"Okay, man. See you later."

Bill sprinted to the door, grabbing his keys, his badge and his gun off of his hall stand. He made it down the stairs in record time and was pushing the door open by the time he had fitted his Blue tooth headset into his ear. It was cold, but he didn't mind. By the time he made it across the parking lot, he was still warm.

A shooting in a club not far from the Strip. That was the type of excitement that Bill knew lurked in Las Vegas. He'd grown to love the crime in the city, though he still hated the city itself.

He arrived at the crime scene as quickly as he could and had his kit out within a few seconds of getting out of the car. That was the point where he slowed down and decided to take stock of his position. He slowly made his way over to the club entrance.

"Brass, what went down?" Bill all but barked the moment that he stepped inside and saw that the older detective had been the one luck enough to catch this case. Brass turned upon hearing Bill's voice and responded as expected with this type of incident.

"We're still questioning witnesses. It's taking forever."

"This is where I work my magic." Bill cracked his knuckles before he pulled his rubber gloves on.

"Not right now, Bill. Help Brass sort out the witnesses." Catherine Willows, Grissom's assistant supervisor, stood up from where she was crouched and Bill groaned. "We're pulling in the rest of the team and we need you helping people remember what happened. That's your talent."

"Sure." Bill sneered and groaned very unhappily. He looked around as he pulled his gloves off and fished his notebook out of his kit, and looked around, his eyes focusing on a young man about his age with dreads and baggy clothes. "Had he been interviewed?" Brass shook his head and Bill picked up his kit and headed over toward the young man. "CSI Kaultiz. May I ask you a few questions about what happened here?"

"Tom Trumper." The dread head brushed one of his dreads out of his face and shivered gently. Bill motioned for Tom to sit down and the dread head did, seeming very hesitant.

"It's okay. Don't be so nervous." Bill pulled hie half-gloves he'd had on earlier back on. " Just answer my questions and I'll try to get you out of here as soon as possible." He reached over and laid his hand on Tom's shaking hands in an effort to calm him down. It took a few seconds to take effect and he saw Tom visibly relax. " Okay. Firstly, do you work here or were you her clubbing?"

"I work here. I've been working here for the past few years since my family moved here and opened this place." Tom slouched back in the chair and brushed his dreads out of his face. He watched as Bill's hand moved across the paper and cocked his head. There was this haunting beauty surrounding the CSI that sat across from him. Tom almost wanted to reach out and comfort Bill. That was what he'd been taught for the past thirteen years since he'd been found on the streets of New York city, wandering around with no memory of his past save his name. Care for others and the protection of the Mother will rain upon you. "I'm a bartender."

"Tell me about what happened here, Tom. Tell me where everyone was for starters."

"Megyan Monroe, the manager, was in the back room with Patience and Justice Fahey, my adopted sisters, most likely working on the books." Tom closed his eyes and tried to visualize it all. " Brendon Urie, one of the other bartenders, was over the right of the bar, " He pointed over in the direction of the bar and Bill looked in that direction. "Chatting up some gothic chick with black hair, attempting to get her number. Max Sleboda, the other bartender, was over to the left of the bar, washing glasses. I was taking in the scenery around me, waiting for an order to come in. Jesse, Max's step-brother, was sitting on the bar stool at the corner closest to Max, talking to Will Beckett, one of our regulars." Tom opened his eyes and continued. "TJ Bell and Ryan Ross, our DJ and his partner, were up in the booth, Ryan taking requests and TJ playing the music. Ed Sromoski, our tech guy, was up there working the strobes for them. Zeke and Zac Douglas and Honor Fahey, the bouncers, were working the door. Faith Fahey, Honor, Patience, Justice, and my sister, was in the back cooking. Hope and Grace, my younger sisters were waiting tables, while Colt, the eldest of the family that works here, was in the bathroom.'

"There was a blond woman about five foot nine sitting at table 23. She seemed a little off. Just something about her was off. She seemed a little flighty, like she was afraid of something. Then, this older man walked in. Actually, two older men. One with long black hair, just a little longer than yous and I think a lip ring. The other had like a Cruella DeVil look going on, except half-blond, half-brown and sideburns. A woman came in after them with pink, black, and blond hair and a nose ring. She ordered a White Russian while the two men ordered a glass of water and a Diet Coke. Then, a guy with almost fluffy sandy blondish hair came in and ordered a vodka on the rock.'

"Few minutes went by, the White Russian chick approached the blond chick and said something to her that made her calm a bit. Then, the two men started to walk over toward her, while the fluffy blond haired guy kept staring at them.'

"Then, a man wearing mostly black came in and the flighty girl freaked out. She ran toward the back room and he pulled a gun out. White Russian pulled out a gun as well, same with fluffy and Cruella. The man fired two shots at the blond, one hitting the wall, the other hitting her in the back of the leg. Zeke, Zac, and Honor went for their guns. Five shots at them, hitting Honor in the shoulder once, Zeke in the chest once, and Zac in the upper thigh twice. Max went under the counter for his gun and fired, missing and shattering the glass on table 25. Jesse and Will bolted over the bar and the gunman fired once , hitting Will in the back. Brendon ducked beneath the counter and I heard gunfire in the back and Max fired again. All with guns were firing at the shooter, yet somehow missing. Hope and Grace were hiding under one of the tables as were most of out patrons. I heard more gunfire, this time coming from up in the booth. I ducked and hit the alarm button. The glass on the back wall and the mirror behind the bar shattered and glass rained down on Brendon. Max fired off about three more times, then he got thrown backwards and hit the shelves. The gunfire in the back stopped and I heard about ten more shots, then no more. Not even five minutes later, the cops arrived."

Bill's hand was going at a mile a minute. Tom glanced around, waiting for Bill to stop. When Bill finally stopped, Tom arched his eyebrow and Bill shot him the same look.

"Looks like we're going to have a fun time digging the bullets out." Bill said with a smirk and quickly stood up, pulling one of his cards from his pocket in the process. "Call me if you remember anymore than that." He handed the card to Tom and turned on heel, heading towards the back. He was going to see if there was indeed shots fired in the back, kit in hand.


End file.
